Show Me
by peacockfeatherpen
Summary: I thought it was going to be easy - moving to Chicago to live with my dad. I thought I could blend in with my new student body. I thought my junior year would be simple, normal. Until I met him. Until I met Harry Styles.
1. Another World

**Hey! It's me, PeacockFeatherPen. I chose this name because when I write, I always write with my lucky peacock feather pen. Simple. Haha. I decided to write a One Direction fanfiction, because. I love One Direction. I really hope you guys like it. Some of the inspiration for this first chapter came from Twilight. Thanks Stephenie Meyer. Anyways. Here we go!**

**~PeacockFeatherPen~**

"Um, are you sure about this, Ali?" my mother asked me for the billionth time.

I stood at the airport, hefting my backpack over my shoulder. My mother stared at me, her baby blue eyes - a mirror of mine - wide with concern.

"I'm sure," I say, moving my chocolatey bangs out of my eyes. I forced a smile on my lips. "I'll be fine. Dad'll take awesome care of me. Congrats on your new job."

I gave her another bear hug, kissed her cheek, and boarded the plane. I waved to her until we were off, and my mother, and the home I'd always known, was gone.

That's exactly what happened. My mother Jessica got a new, big-paying nursing job...in England. I really...didn't want to go. I didn't want to leave Miami.

I offered to move in with my estranged father. He lives all the way in Chicago, the windy, foreign city. So, here I am.

I placed my headphones in my ears, cranking up Ed Sheeran's "+" album on my fully charged iPhone. I was prepared to listen to it on repeat, the entire flight.

I didn't have many bags with me - just three cheap suitcases, my backpack, and my acoustic guitar. That's all I needed, really. I turned my gaze to the window, watching me soar, soar away from what I'd always known.

XXX

"Ali? Is that_ my _Ali?"

My eyes flung open, and I turned to find the loudest voice in the airport. "Dad?" I called, yanking my earphones out of my iPhone.

I felt him before I saw him. My dad, Robert, wrapped his strong, hairy arms around me, pulling me tight against his chest. "I missed you!" he said at top volume in my ear.

"I missed you too," I said, giggling. I hug him for a few more minutes before he steps away, examining me. His eyes traveled from the white beanie on my head, to my black Red Hot Chili Peppers crop top, and to my fitted dark skinny jeans.

"You're...you're beautiful!" my dad choked, wrapping his arms around me once more. And I heard the whispered, broken, "You look just like your mother." The last time I saw my father was when I was twelve, all pimples, frizzy hair, and braces. He and my mother divorced when I was three.

Dad's happiness was infectious. He boisterously reached for my bags, chatting away about how much he missed me. He lead me to his rusty Ford red truck, the very same one he'd used when I was twelve.

A flood of memories rushed back when I saw my dad's truck - six year old me sitting in the backseat, with the makeshift leather belt as a seatbelt strung across me, juice box in hand, singing along to my favorite "The Lion King" CD, giggling as my father imitated Pumbaa's voice. I thought of nine year old me sloppily dripping vanilla ice cream on my dad's ratty seats. Tears sprung to my eyes.

He noticed my pause, and my loud, shaky swallow. "You all right?"

I shook my head, adjusting my beanie. "Fine, Dad. Just..."

"Pretty sentimental, huh?"

I nodded. "You have no idea."

He clapped a heavy hand on my shoulder, grinning at me. We sank into those same, holey carpeted seats.

Dad began to drive, and I studied him. He looked the same - fluffy brown hair that was streaked with silver, hazel eyes, scruffy chin. He was wearing a blue polo that fit him snugly, and plain jeans. My dad was a psychologist. I never used to understand his job when I was a kid.

"By the way, Ali," he began. "I got a surprise for you."

"Surprise?" I raised my eyebrows. My gaze immediately went to his free hand.

He was unable to hide his wide smile. "You'll see it before you leave for school tomorrow morning."

"Oh."

After that, the ride was strangely silent. I unrolled my white earbuds and cranked up some Young the Giant. My eyes fell shut, and the two hour long ride back to my father's house was overtaken by chill, indie lyrics and the lead singer's raspy voice.

We pulled up to that same three story white house, with the same red shingles. I stared at my new home for a moment, then quickly hopped out of the car and went for the trunk. Dad shooed me away. "No, Al, I got these. You go on upstairs. Pretty sure you remember where it is." He smirked.

I scowled, but went to the strangely unlocked door and stepped inside. The foyer of Dad's house looked the same - living room off to the left, kitchen down the hall, dining room further down. Big, tan wraparound couch. The only new thing I noticed was a giant flat screen in the living room, mounted on the wall.

I smiled at that and hurried upstairs, noting that all of my school pictures were horribly placed along the staircase, from kindergarten to last year.

Vomiting in my mouth a little, I reached my bedroom.

The walls were pale lavender, my comforter and all of the accents in the room black and white. It looked like mt father hadn't touched it since I came here last. My two Nikon cameras were still strewn on my computer desk, the camera lens beside it. My copy of _Harry Potter and the Order of the Pheonix _was still on the floor, open to page 362.

I sank down on my window seat, staring out my father's green yard. A few tears escaped, thinking of the coming morning. School. School in Chicago.

I watched the rain start to fall, and I began to cry silently. I heard my father sit the bags outside my door, thankfully not coming in. I wasn't ready for this...

Later that night, after a pizza dinner, I curled up in my bed, clad in sweatpants and a stretched out tank top. My pillow was wet with tears.

My eyes drifted to the clock that was beside my bed - only six more hours...

XXX

When I woke for school, Dad was already gone. The morning was cloudy coming through my window. I quickly showered, did my eyeliner, and stumbled to my suitcases. I nervously pulled on a pair of dark skinny jeans, a one-shoulder ying yang top, and my red beanie. I wormed my feet into my combat boots.

Cranking up some more Ed Sheeran as I was getting ready, I tried to pretend that I was going anywhere, anywhere else but Fields High School.

Trying not to hyperventilate, I grabbed my backpack, pulled on my black leather jacket and grabbed a granola bar from my dad's cabinet, wolfing the thing down in three bites without tasting any of it.

Walking outside, the first thing I noticed was the unfamiliar, bright, shiny, red Fiat 500 with a blue ribbon taped to the front headlight, sitting right of the house.

_What? _

Stunned, I pulled it off. The note was in my dad's slanty handwriting, that I recognized from his notes in birthday cards he'd send me every year.

_Thought you might want a faster - and more stylish - way to get to school. Surprise. Good luck on your first day! _

_- Love, Dad _

Chuckling to myself, I slipped the note in my jacket pocket and climbed in, my shocked eyes scanning the new interior.

The knot of horror in my lower belly grew as I put the keys in the ignition, starting up the Fiat. I pulled slowly out of my father's driveway, and onto the street.

I fiddled with the radio a little, finding an oldies station playing "Hey Jude" by the Beatles. Singing along to the nonsense lyrics, it really did calm me down.

_Take a sad song, and make it better..._

After driving straight for ten minutes, I saw the sign for Fields High School. There was no way to make this sad song better - except to just go back home, to Miami, and forget all of this happened.

I found an empty space, far away from the front building. A few kids were looking up, studying the foreign car. I pull my hood over my head and speed-walk to the front of the school.

The office was a bright room, cut in half by a long counter. A heavyset blond woman with inch long red fingernails was tapping on a Mac desktop, chatting into an outdated desk phone. A sheet with my name on it was on top of the pile in one of the wicker baskets. My schedule.

She didn't seem to notice my arrival. I decided to wait patiently. The longer I could put off going to class the better. My feet lead me to one of the squishy chairs set up in the corners.

And that was the first time I saw him.

I almost had a stroke when I saw the dark figure leaning against the office counter across from me, thumbs hooked casually on the pockets of jeans.

How long had he been there? Was he there when I came in?

This guy was incredibly, breathtakingly...beautiful. He was tall, and had dark, unruly, curly hair that sat like a mop on top of his head, sweeping across his pale forehead. My eyes traveled to his chiseled cheekbones, his straight nose, and his full, pink, bow-shaped lips. He was wearing a Rolling Stones shirt under a leather jacket, dark, fitted skinny jeans, and converse sneakers.

My stare last landed on his almond-shaped eyes. His deep, sharp, mossy-green eyes. They were almost a jade color, framed with thick, dark lashes. They seemed to pierce right through me, rendering me speechless.

The guy held himself with an aura of confidence and...danger. I sank back deeper into my seat on instinct.

The corner of the stranger's heart-shaped lips pulled up in one corner, in a smirk that stopped my heartbeat. He had deep dimples on either side of his mouth. "Like something you see, beautiful?" His voice was a deep, raspy, seductive purr.

I immediately looked around me, wondering if he was addressing someone else. His husky chuckle pierced my ears. "Yeah, I'm talking to you. You were staring." I heard him push himself off the counter, walking closer. His converses stopped in front of my seat, and his body sank slowly down across from me. A cheeky grin spread over his face.

"Don't believe I've seen you around before," the stranger said.

"Today's my first day," I squeaked.

"Ah, a newbie." His eyes fell to the sheet clutched in my hands. "What's this?" With long fingers, he reached over and tugged the paper out of my grip with ease.

As he ran his eyes over the words, I noticed how ridiculously long and thick his lashes were. They looked almost fake.

He finally looked up, a smirk on his perfect lips. "We have a class together."

"Which one?" I blurted out.

Suddenly, an overweight, balding man with glasses in a too-tight suit, came from a door in the back of the office. "Harry Styles," the man barked.

The guy - Harry? - turned to me and grinned, standing up. "I've been summoned," he said dramatically, setting my schedule on his now empty seat.

The guy walked toward the unsmiling fat man, then turned and threw me a wink. "See you around...Alison." Before I could formulate a word, the back door slammed shut.

_What the hell just happened?_

When I stumbled to the counter, the blond woman was clucking her tongue at the back door. The sign on it said "Principal Welch".

"That Harry Styles," she says, chewing noisily on her bubble gum. "He spends way more time in the front office than he does in class, of course."

"Why?" I blurted.

"Why - did you _see_ him?" the woman hissed. "That boy is _dangerous. _He was called in because he was caught throwing cigarettes at the cheerleaders during their morning meet."

I gulped. "Seriously?"

She pursed her big red lips. "I mean, he is...a bit more _good-looking_ than most high school boys..." Her eyes fluttered, and I swallowed a laugh. That was an understatement.

"Anyways," she said, flushing. "Th-this is your first day? Did you pick up your schedule?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Well, make sure you come back at the end of the day, and I'll make sure you're all prepared for tomorrow as well and your classes are followed. Just follow the schedule for today, and I'll see if I need to switch anything around."

"Thank you." I smiled numbly at her, and I heard a husky laugh from the principal's office behind us. Kind of like he was mocking someone.

Ignoring the way my bones turned to jelly, I turned,pushed the door open, and hurried out.

XXX

_First period - English III, Mrs. Barter_

_Second period - biology, Mr. Muse _

_Third period - French, Mrs. DuBois_

_Fourth period - Honors geometry, Mr. Vance _

_C Lunch _

_Fifth period - Mindless Art, Ms. Hastings_

I read the list quickly, folding it up and slipping it in my pocket so I wouldn't have to walk around with a stupid sheet of paper in front of my face the entire time. I followed the school's signs to A building, and to the 300s.

When I walked into the English classroom, the first thing I did was scan the room for a messy, curly mop of hair.

The pang of disappointment was impossible to ignore. As I gazed at the plain-looking kids in the class poke each other with pencils and giggle over things on Twitter, a bony hand landed on my shoulder.

"Alison Steele?" an icy voice sneered.

I nodded, flushing. Mrs. Barter was unsmiling, her red hair stiff and unmoving. "Go ahead and find a seat then."

Without looking at her, I hurried to an empty seat next to a pretty blond girl with wide hazel eyes and dimples. "Sorry about Barter," she said, grinning at me. "Lady's a bitch."

"Is she?" I chuckled.

"You're in for a semester," the girl said. She slid a stick of bubble gum between her candy pink lips. "I'm Regina."

"Alison Steele. I go by Ali."

"Pleased to meet you." Regina smirked, leaning towards me, seeming to be well aware of her cleavage popping out of her Hollister top. "So." She looked quickly around the room. "Have you met him?" she whispered.

I had a vague idea on who she was addressing. "Who?"

"Fields High's resident badass, of course," she mumbles. "He's the talk of the school. Harry Styles. He has brown curly hair. Green eyes. Absolutely _beau-ti-ful_. Has the fittest ass in all of Chicago."

I coughed nervously to hide my laugh. "I, uh, I guess I have met someone like that. In the principal's office this morning."

"_No._" Her mouth fell open. "What happened?"

"He just kind of walked up to me and looked at my schedule. Apparently we have a class together."

"He came to you?" Regina sniffed. "He barely goes up to anyone, besides his amazingly hot bestie Louis Tomlinson." She fanned herself, and shook her head in awe. "Which one do you have together? Harry barely goes to his classes."

"I don't know," I admitted. "He didn't tell me."

"He is so mysterious," she purred. "You have to tell me which one."

I nodded a little.

"What lunch do ya have?"

"C?" I squinted, remembering my sheet.

"Same." She held her hand up for a high-five, and I weakly gave her one.

The PA system crackled just then, and a buttery, cheerful voice started to speak: "Good morning, my fellow Fields High Wolves! This is your student body class president, Liam Payne, with the morning announcements! Louis Tomlinson has arranged a drama club meeting after school today in the auditorium at three. Today's lunch - ham hoagie with or without pickles..."

My eyes drifted to the big windows beside me, and I saw a tall figure with curly hair walking in the parking lot. He was talking animatedly on an iPhone, his posture rigid. A lit cigarette was in his other hand. I noticed as he started to yell, before fiercely jabbing at the phone's screen.

He slipped the phone back in his pocket, running a large hand through his curls. I watched, captivated, as Harry's tall frame loped to the woods behind the school, the lit cigarette still visible until in faded into the darkness of the trees.

**Leave reviews! I won't post the next chapter until I get feedback! **

**~PeacockFeatherPen~**


	2. One Thing

**Hey, it's me. Hope you guys enjoy! x **

**~PeacockFeatherPen~**

The rest of my day followed in the same fashion: talking to my teacher for a moment and finding a seat, with a few brave souls marching up to me and introducing themselves in each class.

At around 1:45, the bell rang three times for C lunch. Awkwardly, I shuffled out of geometry, my head buzzing with simple formulas, and followed a crowd of seemingly identical, blond, chatting girls to the double doors of the cafeteria.

A lump formed in my throat, and a large knot of fear twisted in my belly. Every new kid's nightmare - lunch time.

I robotically went through the line, setting down a slice of veggie pizza and a bottle of fruit juice on my tray. When I reached the cashier and I took out my money, my gaze slid over the room, only seeing a few faces I sort of recognized through the day.

I was prepared to sit alone, my headphones in, ignoring the world of teenagers around me, before I heard a chirpy voice call, "Ali! Hey, _Ali!"_

My head snapped up, and I saw Regina breezing towards me, hooking her arm around mine just as the lunch lady set my money down on my plate.

"Aren't you glad I saw you?" she said, smirking. "Without me, you would've been all alone. Here, come sit with me and my friends."

Unable to fight my smile, I walked alongside her until we reached a round table by the big windows near the back door of the cafeteria. It was occupied by about five people - three girls and two guys.

Regina pointed at each person in succession.

Savannah was a brunette girl wearing a beanie and glasses, writing in a notebook and eating a peach whole, Jess, an unnatural redhead wearing a lot of eye makeup who smelled like cigarette smoke and was blasting Fiona Apple from her phone, and Bree, a pretty girl with caramel-colored skin and long dark wavy hair, who was texting and smiled at me.

The guys were Sam, a blond guy who was talking about a recent wipeout he had on his longboard, and Drew, who had messy, Ed Sheeran-rivaling hair and was working on homework.

"Everybody, meet Ali. She's new here." Regina's voice carried easily over the conversation. "She's from..."

"Miami," I said quietly, sitting next to Bree.

"Miami?" Jess looked at me, wrinkling her nose. "Isn't that where all the guidos are from?"

"That's New Jersey," Savannah piped up.

"Same difference to me." Jess rolled her blue eyes.

"Oh, shut up, Jess," Bree snapped. "She's such a bitch all the time. It's okay, you get used to it."

I didn't know whether to laugh or not, cause I saw Bree get a black-painted middle finger to the back of her head.

"Miami, huh?" Sam smirked at me, pushing his messy blond bangs off his tanned forehead. He leaned closer over the table. "What's that like?"

"Hot," I replied immediately.

"Like a certain girl I know?" He winked at me.

Drew hit him with his notebook. "Keep it in your pants, Anderson. He's disgusting."

Sam playfully punched him in the shoulder. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Regina staring at the back door.

"There he is!" she said to everyone. "There's Louis Tomlinson!"

"Jesus," moaned Savannah. "You do this every day. We have to watch Louis Tomlinson walk inside...every. Day."

"Shh," Regina hissed.

My interest peaked, and I turned to the back as well. The door swung open, and a slim, fit, _handsome_ boy walked in. He had light brown hair, sweeping to the left, showing off all the lovely planes of his angular face, chiseled as if it was hewn from stone. His blue-green eyes sparkled mischeviously, and a goofy half-smile was on his pinkish lips.

He was wearing a striped shirt that accented his built chest, a pair of burgundy skinny jeans, and black Toms. As he strode by, I knew why Regina wanted to stop and watch.

His ass was phenomenal - way better than most girls'. He seemed to be completely ignorong the groups of girls oohing and staring at him, whispering about Louis' gorgeousness under their breaths.

Louis stopped and waited, turning towards the back door. "Hurry your ass up, Styles!" he called in a scratchy, but slightly high pitched voice.

Styles.

The tall, beautiful, mysterious boy that I saw in the office for a max of about eight minutes shuffled in, his hands jammed in his pockets.

My heart quickened, and my hand tightened on the juice bottle.

"You know I can't move very fast," Harry drawled in his sexy, raspy, charred tone. "Smoker lungs, y'know." He beamed at his friend.

Louis snorted. "I smoke just as much as you do, and I can still move faster than you."

Harry pushed him, and they got into a small scuffle right near our table. Regina drew in a loud, sharp breath, fanning herself dramatically, her hazel eyes ping-ponging from Louis' sculpted cheekbones to his ridiculous bum.

Regina's noise seemed to be heard by Harry, cause his stare fell to our table. I felt everyone around me stiffen.

He was looking at me.

I watched as the recognition brightened in his deep green eyes.

"Hey," he mumbled slowly.

I felt my insides liquify, my breath rushing out of my lungs so fast it left me dizzy. My new friends turned just then, ogling me as if I just grew a new head. Drew was paused with a fork in midair in front of his open mouth. Even Louis looked over at me, cocking his head as if mildly interested.

"You were staring at me again." Harry lifted his chin slowly, and my tongue lolled around pathetically in my mouth. Holy shit, he's so beautiful.

His tone lowered from mocking to husky. "If you wanted me to notice you, all you had to do was say hello."

I bristled, suddenly finding my voice. "I wasn't staring."

Harry slowly raised an eyebrow, seemingly a bit impressed. Then he walked closer. Everyone at my table didn't dare touch their food. Except Jess. She was continuing to eat as if nothing happened, her eyes trained stubbornly on her salad.

"Yeah, you were," he murmured. "I saw you the whole time."

My heart was pounding. "Maybe if you weren't staring at me in the first place, you wouldn't notice me staring."

Regina pinched me hard, warningly, under the table, but I ignored it.

This time, both of Harry's eyebrows shot up. He glanced over at Louis, who was grinning, then back at me. Before I could react, he took my pizza off my plate, stole a bite, chewed quickly, and swallowed.

"I'll be seeing you around, Alison," he almost growled, setting the pizza back down on my plate.

"Ali," I whispered breathlessly.

He leaned up, smiling, showing those deep dimples by his beautiful, pink lips. "Ali." The way his voice caressed my name shot shivers up and down my spine.

He spun strikingly on his heel, striding away confidently, Louis following, staring down at his iPhone.

"Hi, Louis," Regina called.

He looked up, turned to her, and winked. "Hey, love."

And the boys left the cafeteria.

Regina sank back into her seat, shaking her head clear, then turned to stare at me like everyone else was. "What. Was _that?"_

"I don't know," I admitted honestly, staring after Harry. My heart was still thrumming so fast it was a buzz.

"That was the closest I've ever been to Harry Styles," Bree whispered. "He was leaning_ right over_ me."

"I've never seen him say hi to anyone besides Tomlinson," Drew added, looking at me strangely.

Jess got up stiffly just then, taking her untouched sandwich and dumping it in the trash, leaving almost as dramatically as Harry and Louis. No one seemed to pay her any attention but me.

"I can't wait," gushed Regina.

"For what?" Bree was taking big gulps of water, trying to cool down from having Harry's solid chest right in front of her.

"For Ali's next class. This one's with Harry, right?"

The thought hit me with astronomical force. The only class I haven't had yet. Mindless art.

Suddenly, I wasn't hungry anymore.

XXX

The walk to the art building seemed long. Even with my following of the school's signs, it felt like I was on my way to the electric chair.

The room was messy - old paint messes splattering the floors, tables, and some on the ceiling. A large mural of paintings were on the back wall, and the west wall was completely covered with windows.

The teacher was a pretty woman, who wore absolutely no makeup, and had frizzy red hair pulled up bun, secured with chopsticks. She was barefoot, and was sipping a carton of milk. She welcomed me warmly, and insisted I call her Cathy.

I quickly took a seat at the back of the classroom, drumming my fingers impatiently on the dirty tabletop.

Students filed to their chairs, still chatting, and Ella made her way to the front of the room.

Where was he? Was he ditching?

The bell rang, and my stomach dropped. Cathy flitted over to the door, switching off the lights and turning on an overhead projector. Kids' conversations turned to quiet whispers.

Still no sign of Harry. _Are you kidding me? _

Just as my last sprout of hope wilted, the door swung open.

"You weren't thinking of starting class without me, were you?" a throaty voice said sarcastically, and Harry Styles swaggered inside the darkened class. A few girls started whispering, giggling, immediately fixing their hair and sticking their chests out at him. Something tells me they do this every time he comes into class.

"Harry!" Ella sat on top of her desk, crossing her legs. "You showed up today. Special occasion?"

"Didn't have anything better to do." His voice was so husky and...captivating. Jesus. I bit my lip.

Harry crossed the room in three long strides, his eyes on me the closer he came. He slipped in the chair beside me, his long fingers resting on the table. He smelled like cigarette smoke and some kind of woodsy cologne. The mixture was mouthwatering.

"Ali," Harry said, a bit formally.

I kept my gaze up front, watching Cathy gesture wildly with her hands suing her lecture. "Harry."

In my peripheral vision, I peeked as he flipped his chocolatey curls out of his face with a flick of his head and a sweep of his hand. "How'd you know my name? Don't believe I ever introduced myself to you."

I snorted, slightly amused by this dumb question. "It's kind of hard not to know your name," I whispered. "You're basically all everyone talks about."

I could tell he was smiling. "Yeah? Or were you asking about me?"

"I wasn't asking about you." It wasn't a complete lie.

"I don't believe you."

"I wasn't." I broke my stare to the front of the room, and turned to glare at him.

He was grinning cheekily, his dimples so deep it looked like I could stick part of my fingers in them. His green eyes slid from my face to my shirt.

"Damn, you have a nice rack."

I gasped, stunned, then whirled around to face the front of the room. I could hear his deep laughter as I crossed my arms over my chest. A few girls were looking my way judgingly, wondering why the hell Harry Styles was smiling in class.

"So." Harry leaned closer, cupping his chin with his hand. Cathy was continuing to talk about "seeing without using your eyes", and I tried to pay attention. But with such a gorgeous guy sitting less than six inches from me, it was difficult to remember my own name.

"Where you from?" I heard his voice say.

"Miami."

He nodded. "I've been once. It's too hot for my taste. Chicago's more my style."

"It's not mine."

"Why'd you come here?"

I turned to him. Harry's head was cocked to the side slightly, his fingers rubbing his chin. He was studying me carefully.

"My, uh, mom got a new job. In England. I didn't want to go. My, er, parents are divorced...so, um, I decided to move in with my dad."

"You should've went to England."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Oh, sorry, guess you didn't want me to come."

"It's not that, you're all right," Harry said dismissively, waving his hand. "You're the first person to challenge me here. Besides, Louis, of course. It's kinda nice to see a little somethin' different round here, yeah?"

I didn't know what to say.

Just then, Harry began to shrug out of his leather jacket, dropping it on the back of his chair. I couldn't help my ogling.

His arms were solid, hard, and I had the overwhelming urge to run my fingers down his bicep. The Rolling Stones shirt fit him perfectly, emphasizing the perfect planes of his chest.

The sly smile on Harry's lips let me know that I'd been caught. Damnit. I turned my face back to the front. I didn't speak to him for the rest of the lecture, but his presence was overwhelming me.

"All right, class." Cathy smiled, showing all of her teeth. "There's a reason I made it dark in here. We're going to do a very mindless exercise, the same one we do every month. Lights Out. I'll explain it to our dear new student, Alison."

"Ali." It wasn't me who corrected her, it was _Harry_.

Ella looked at Harry, mildly surprised, and the twenty other students were looking at him, or me. I sank down into my chair, blushing madly.

"All right. Ali. What we do, is everyone moves the tables out of the way and set up pairs of easels. We are blindfolded, and walk around and around until I call sit.

"Then, we feel the hands of the person sitting next across from us, take off the blindfolds, and draw. Draw what we think our interpretation of our partner's face is. The nose. The eyes. The hair. How you think they would be looking at the moment. Smiling. Laughing. Eating, anything. I'll give you two minutes, and we'll see how close you are to the actual result. It's all about seeing without your eyes."

Cathy called for the class to come get blindfolds from the front, and then start setting things up. I scrambled to my feet, watching as kids pushed the paint covered tables to the corner of the room.

From behind me, I heard a deep chuckle, and long fingers smoothed my hair down. I jumped and let out a squeak, a male voice leaned down to huskily whisper, "Calm down. I'm just gonna put your blindfold on for you. You just looked so lost."

I nodded slowly as my vision become obscured. Harry pulled the red scarf over my eyes, tying it in the back. I felt hot breath on my throat, and a deep, seductive purr of: "Now you can't see me."

_Oh my god. _

I felt his hands tug gently at the bow in the back of the scarf. "You know what I'm thinking about? It's kind of hot, you being at mercy like this. You have no idea what's coming next..."

What the hell? Was he saying what I think he was saying? Harry Styles? I let out a small gurgle, my heart pounding so hard it was almost crashing through my ribcage.

All of a sudden, Harry's harsh breathing and presence was gone. I was left alone, the sounds reality - of the classroom and scraping easels - flooded back to me, making my ears feel almost stopped up.

"What are doing so far away from the class, Ali?" Cathy's voice snapped me back to earth. "Come on back here."

I felt my way about, my feet shuffling me around the room. I bumped into several people, letting out a sharp gasp when I thumped into a solid, warm chest, smelling like cigarettes and cologne. Long fingers wrapped around my shoulders, carefully moving me out of his way. Holy cow.

At last, Cathy called for us to sink into chairs. I hit my side on the side of the easel, but my butt finally found its way onto the chair.

"Now, take the hand of the person sitting across from you," Cathy whispered.

I reached over, feeling over smooth, thin fingers. The hand was cold, a little damp, and I couldn't feel any polish on the fingernails. Could've been a girl or a guy. I'd always been good at art - drawing people especially. The hard part was what I was going to doodle; I've never done anything close to this before.

"Now, peel off those blindfolds. Don't look at your partner. Grab your charcoal pencil and begin to draw the first thing that comes to mind."

I took a deep breath as my blindfold unmasked my sight. I clutched the charcoal pencil between my fingers, my hand flying over the easel. First came the angular shape of the face. The bow-shaped lips. The straight nose. The crayon began to draw big, bouncy curls, wide, expressive eyes, and...dimples, by the corners of the mouth. One side of the mouth was pulled up into a dangerous half-smirk.

Harry Styles bloomed on the paper before my eyes, and though my drawing was pretty accurate, nothing could amount to the real thing. My heart hammered as Cathy strolled by, looking at everyone's drawings.

"Nice... Wow... Lovely... I love the shading, here..."

Her voice was coming closer and closer. I was starting to panic.

"Very captivating, Ali," she gushed, patting me on the head before breezing past. I could almost see the smile she was giving my piece of art.

I felt like I was going to die of embarrassment.

Finally, the lights flickered on. Everyone blinked, then turned to see who their partners were. A blossoming of chatter grew around the room.

My partner was a guy with a beard who smelled like weed and was chewing gum loudly. His nice drawing was of a female - though she wore glasses and was way prettier than I was.

"You definitely had a girl hand," he explained. "Well? Can I see what you drew?"

My heart shot up to my throat, my eyes sliding across the room to where Harry sat. His partner was of a very mousy girl, who was basically shrinking behind the easel and trembling at the near sight of him. He seemed to find it funny, a cheeky grin on his lips as he stared the girl down.

Thankfully, saving me from this horror, the bell rang for the end of class. I shot my partner a sympathetic smile, before snatching up sheet from the easel and breezing away. Sorry, maybe next time.

Something caught my eye as I fumbled for the exit, one of the sketches of the exercise. It was amazing - a girl, with long, wavy hair and wide eyes. She had a heart shaped face, a small nose, and was wearing a hoodie. She was smiling.

It was me. It was a drawing of me...right at the easel Harry Styles was sitting in front of.

XXX

That night, I curled up in bed, after giving my dad a draining recap of my first day. Leaving out a very crucial detail.

Harry.

I don't understand what hit me today, seeing him. I don't understand why talking to him made me go weak. I don't understand what made me draw him today in mindless art.

And that drawing today - me. It was so detailed, it was damn near impossible that it was done in under ten minutes.

Did Harry really draw that? And if he did, why?

I needed to get a grip on myself. I chewed on a lock of my chocolate hair, breathing heavily. Harry Styles is just another guy. So what if he's handsome? So what if he's compelling? So what if talking to him today made my heart almost crash through my ribs?

So what?

I have a school year to get through, I decided, pulling the blankets up over me. I'll worry about boys later.


	3. I Would

**Sorry for that little break! Went on vacation. This chapter's a bit shorter than I wanted it, but it sets the plot for the story! Hope you like it! **

**~PeacockFeatherPen~**

The next morning was a cloudy overcast, some brave peeks of sun shining through the overall gray. I strode to the front of the school, Regina at my side. She found me in the parking lot, immediately running over to me.

"So you'll never guess what I finally did last night," she said giddily.

"What'd you do?" I asked, skirting around a clump of freshman girls watching a rerun of _Glee_ on a smartphone.

"I added Louis on Facebook!" she bursted out, grabbing my arm. "I sent him a friend request and he accepted! I went through all of his pictures." She pulled her iPhone out of her pocket, stabbing at the screen until she got to Louis' Facebook page.

"Check this one out of him when he was in Hamlet. Just _look_ at the fit of those tights. Jesus."

"Uh huh," I said under my breath, glancing at the phone's screen then sinking onto one of the outside benches. She plopped beside me, continuing to jabber away about Louis' profile.

"Aw, here's one of him and Harry!"

The sound of his name snapped me back to reality. "Really?" Harry Styles, to me, wasn't one to take pictures. She handed me her phone with a whisper of a smirk on her lips, and on the screen was a smiling picture of Louis and Harry in a hotel room. They were both sitting, Harry leaning into the camera's shot. The caption said: "Haz and I in a hotel in Miami. (: psyched for the music festival tomorrow!"

"They go on road trips together?" I finally asked after a minute of staring at Harry's perfect, sleepy half-smile, frozen and gazing at me through the phone with those beautiful eyes.

Regina was watching me carefully. "Yeah. There's tons of pictures Louis takes of them, a lot without Harry noticing."

She tapped on a photo album and handed the phone to me.

I immediately began swiping, going through Louis' seemingly endless amount of pictures - Harry in front of the Lincoln Memorial, Harry wearing an I Love New York shirt, Louis and Harry sitting in a retro booth, both holding burgers bigger than their heads.

Suddenly, when I started to zoom in on a shirtless Harry on the beach, the angry, ear-splitting growling of a motorcycle made me jump almost a foot in the air. Thankfully, Regina saved her phone before it clattered to the pavement.

The rider barreled into the school parking lot, screeching into an empty space. Conversations of the kids lounging in front stopped immediately, their heads turning to the sleek black motorcycle. A few knowing smiles appeared on their faces.

The rider stepped off of the bike, and when he pulled off the helmet, I saw tell-tale tangles of matted, curly brown hair. His skinny jeans clung perfectly to his hips, and I noticed he was wearing the same leather jacket and old pair of converses I saw yesterday.

Girls immediately started whispering and smoothing their hair when Harry casually started walking to the flagpole. I couldn't help but stare at the smooth movements of his walk.

His almond-shaped eyes were concealed by a black vintage, pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses. The plain T-shirt he wore rippled over his torso as he leaned against the flagpole, long fingers reaching into his jacket pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He shook out his curly helmet head, sweeping some of the chocolate ringlets across his forehead, just like he did in class yesterday.

I watched, awestruck, as he casually flicked open the lighter and set the fire to the end of his cigarette. Just then, when he looked up and took a drag, his head turned in my direction.

The corner of his full lips pull up into that slow, lazy smile I saw on Louis' photographs. The sunglasses hid his sleepy green stare, so I had no clue if he was looking at me or not.

"Ali," Harry suddenly called in his scratchy voice.

Well, that answered _that_ question.

About thirty female heads snapped in my direction, their glares so cold it could freeze lava.

Regina squeezed my arm. "Oh my god, Harry just called your name."

I said nothing, frozen. As I stared, Harry lifted his left hand, slowly, and beckoned me with one long finger.

Even though it was chilly, a shiver ran up my spine, pulsing through my entire body_. Oh my god._

"Go see what he wants!" she snapped, practically throwing me off of the bench.

I stumbled until I planted my feet solidly on the ground, shuffling over to Harry's tall body. He was so handsome, he didn't even seem real.

I chewed nervously on my black oversized sweater sleeve as I approached him, lowering my eyes to my red skinny jeans. "Hi," I finally said breathlessly.

"Hi," Harry repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Did you need me for something?"

"Just saying, I think we got off to a rough start," he began. "Never got to introduce myself to you properly." He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth, his perfect, plump lips forming an "O" as he blew out a smoke ring. Every movement of his was guarded, deliberate, and sensual. "I'm Harry. Harry Styles."

"Ali," I said immediately, before realizing my stupidity. Harry stared at me for a moment, grinning slowly again.

Humor was peppered all over Harry's expression. I could see his dimples, and I could swear all of the air rushed out of my lungs. "Nice to meet you," he mumbled.

"S-same to you."

Harry finally pulled off his shades, folding them and slipping them into his leather jacket pocket. He glanced up at me, a a roguish glint lighting up his gorgeous, forest-green eyes. I could feel my bones meld together.

He cocked his head at me, curls moving subtly. "You seem scared."

"Scared?" I squealed. "What do you mean? I'm not scared."

Harry snorted, unconvinced. "Well, I guess it's a good thing we're gonna be in art together for the rest of the year. Don't want you to be _afraid_ of me," he tacked on, almost sounding like a soft purr.

I stood before him, studying him carefully as his perfectly kissable lips curled even further, and it was then in that moment I saw his eyes started to roll over my body with purpose.

_Holy shit._

I couldn't help but shudder and quiver under his intense scrutiny of my body. I prayed to God that he liked what he saw.

_Oh, so he wanted to play like that, did he? Okay. I'm down with that._

It wasn't until I saw him subconsciously lick his lips that I felt my once hidden confidence make a sudden appearance. I've never tried to be sexy before, ever, but around Harry... I felt like a completely different girl.

I took a slow step towards him, making sure to sway my hips in a provocative and suggestive manner, and leaned in until my body was pressed against the cold metal of the flagpole. I made sure to give him my sexiest and most seductive smoulder, while whispering huskily, "Don't worry, honey, I'm a professional. I'll make sure you get all A's, all year." I added on a smirk and a wink at him as I watched his jaw slowly kiss the floor.

There. Take that.

It was satisfying to watch Harry's green eyes almost fall out of his skull, fumbling for words. Before he could attempt to retort, the loud bell buzzed for everyone to get to first period.

"Well," I said quickly, leaning up and looking casually towards the school. "Time for me to go. Don't wanna miss English, and all."

Feeling boldest of all, I leaned past Harry's aura, his bubble that blocks everyone off, and moved so close that my lips almost brushed his skin. "See you around."

I gave Harry one more wink and a three-finger wave, striding past the groups of girls, and stopped in front of Regina.

That was...exhilarating.

Regina squealed under her breath, grabbing my arm and steering me out of the front courtyard, past the staring, open-mouthed kids.

And for once, Harry Styles was one of them.

XXX

Regina was prattling on about my confronting Harry the entire way to English. And I sat there, smirking as if I was calm and planned the whole thing.

On the inside, my heart was bursting. The image of Harry's emerald eyes sliding down my body, his tongue moistening his lips, was burned into my brain. That only meant one thing - Harry was attracted to me. _Me. _

It was then I saw Louis standing in the hall, wearing a black Killers T-shirt, gray skinny jeans, his sandy brown hair slicked into a beanie. He was staring intently at his white iPhone until we approached. Noticing Regina, he smiled.

"Hi, Louis," she chirped, smoothing her hands over her sleeveless floral top. She also pushed her flawless wavy blond hair over one shoulder. "Thanks for the add. On Facebook."

"Thanks for the request," replied Louis immediately, winking at her cheekily.

Regina squeezed my arm - a growing habit of hers - as if she might faint and needed something to hold on to. "What are you up to?" she purred.

"Oh." Louis slipped his phone into his back pocket, running his hand over his perfectly smooth chin simultaneously. "Just texting Haz, and letting the drama club know some stuff about the upcoming plays. What about you, beautiful?"

Regina's nails dug through my sweater sleeve into my flesh. "Um, just going to class."

Louis' ocean-colored eyes flickered up to a clock above our heads. "Well, you girls have exactly two minutes to get there."

"Shit," Regina cried, dragging me alongside her. "I'll see you, Louis, I gotta go!"

"Bye," he chuckled, wiggling his fingers playfully as we dashed down the hall. Regina finally let go of my numb arm, giggling breathlessly. "Louis," she sang, hurrying into the classroom.

I couldn't help but smile - Regina's energy was infectious. My thoughts were still clouded with Harry's sharp green eyes as we entered the English classroom, just as the bell rang.

XXX

"So guess what," Bree said at lunch, spreading low-fat cream cheese on her plain bagel.

"What?" Drew looked up from a novel, pushing his orange hair out of his glasses.

"Niall Horan was asking about _you_, Ali." Brew smirked at me.

Out of the corner of my vision, I saw Jess roll her eyes. I decided to ignore it. "Who's Niall?"

"Captain of the soccer team," Savannah answered. "He's adorable. He was my biology partner last year."

I nodded slowly, knowing that not a soul on planet earth could be as attractive as Harry Styles.

Just then, the back door swung open, Louis striding in his hands jammed in his pockets, humming some tune under his breath. Harry was right at his side, beautiful as ever, his curls rippling at the rush of air hitting his face as he entered.

Regina tossed her hair out of her face, smiling at Louis broadly. He noticed her and winked, but didn't say anything.

"Hey, Ali." I looked up, pretending I wasn't staring open-mouthed at Harry. He was smirking a little, pushing his bangs off to one side.

"Oh." I turned my head, brushing my hair over one shoulder and using it as a curtain between us. "Hey."

I wish I could see his face, to know what he was doing. I could feel his stare burning into the side of my skull. Sam raised one eyebrow, looking down at me as I gazed at the wall away from Harry.

I heard Louis' small chuckle, and Harry snorted quietly. "This is going to be an interesting class period," he murmured to Louis, his voice much huskier than it was earlier.

"Hey, Jess." Harry's tone oddly became stiff and formal.

Jess said nothing. I could see her, and her hand clenched tightly around the bottle of juice she had. Her red lips were pressed together in a hard, thin line. "Harry," she muttered coldly.

He lingered for a moment, before the sound of his converses squeaked away quietly on the linoleum. I peeked through my hair to watch Regina blow Louis a kiss. He caught it, playfully pocketing it and turned away in one swift move.

"Why didn't you talk to him?" Savannah mused quietly, cocking her head. "It's _Harry_."

I shrugged coyly, chewing on a fry. "He's just a guy."

Sam raised his hand in a high-five. "That's my girl! Now _me_, on the other hand..."

XXX

I made my way to the mindless art classroom, thinking about the strange conversation we had at lunch about Sam's ex-girlfriend - who had a secret obsession with Webkinz - making my way through the crowd of my new student body.

When I strode inside the room, the burbles of chatter and laughter overcame me. Jen was scrawling the word "photography" on the board in all capitals. I moved to the back of the classroom, sinking down in my chair.

The bell rang, and I pulled out my headphones. I grabbed my notebook, working on a pattern I had started on the back cover.

For a few minutes, I concentrated on nothing but the movement of my Sharpie marker, until the sharp noise of a chair scraping on the floor startled me.

The smell of smoke and that delicious, musky cologne tickled my nostrils as his long body slipping beside me. "Hey, you," Harry's husky voice said.

"Hi," I replied, not looking up, continuing to draw on the cover.

Harry stirred, coming closer. I could see it out of the corner of my eyes. His curls tickled my cheek, and I could feel his warm chest on my shoulder. Everything below my neck went numb.

"What are you working on, there?" he breathed. His breath brushed against my neck. He smelled so good, I had to fight the disturbing urge to turn and bury my face into his chest and inhale him.

Feeling overheated and dizzy, I swallowed and leaned over to fix my hair, using it as an escape. "J-just drawing," I stammered.

Apparently, it didn't look casual enough. Harry chuckled, pulling my notebook towards him. "Nice job," he murmured, his long lashes casting shadows on his face as he looked down. It reminded me of the first time I met him. Was it yesterday? Was it only yesterday?

He finally looked up at me. "You doing okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"So. What was with the cold shoulder at lunch today?" His voice was a deep, husky purr. Did everything about him have to be ridiculous? "Was today tease-Harry-and-not-talk-to-him day?"

Tease. My hand clenched my Sharpie in response. "I, uh...no, it wasn't."

"Then what was your little show at the flagpole this morning?" He leaned over, his plump pink lips brushing my ear as he spoke. Chills ran up and down my back, and I dug my fingernails into the paint-splattered table top.

"Harry, I..."

"And then you're gonna cut me off at lunch today?" he continued to whisper huskily, cutting me off. "Don't you know I've been fucking thinking about it all day? Hm?"

I couldn't lean away; it was as if I was superglued to my chair. Goosebumps rose under my sweater, I could feel it. I knew that I invaded his mind, just like he had done to me.

Finally, Jen clapped her hands, and I quickly snapped back to reality. I felt Harry move away from me, a half-smile on his lips. The sight of it made me weak.

"So. At the end of the semester, we have a big photography project due, hence today's topic." The sound of the word photography brought me down from the Harry cloud. I perked up, immediately interested. "I'm going to partner you up with someone else in the room, and I want you guys to put together a narrative. Tell a story with pictures. Either about a flower growing, a stray cat, or a neighbor. On the due date, everyone will present their projects in a slide show. Come up and write your name on the list for renting professional cameras after I finish naming partners. Both partners need to have a camera. I suggest you spend every day with your partner to get to know them, as well. Who knows, some friendships could blossom because of this!"

I almost quivered in anticipation. I thought of my two Nikons at home, easily putting together an outline for the project in my head.

Jen pulled out a folded sheet of paper from her pocket, hopping up on her desk and crossing her legs. "Hannah Mitchell, and Carson McGregor."

A pretty blond girl and a cute redhead boy walked to the front of the room, both writing their names on the camera renting list.

My eyes slid to Harry, and he was staring off into space. Suddenly, he shook his dark curls out and swept it across his forehead.

"Alison Steele," called Jen, and I sat up nervously.

"And Harry Styles."

**Ooh. Bet we all saw that coming! Please review guys, it means a lot!**

**~PeacockFeatherPen~**


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